Whispers of God
by kura-wolfgoddess
Summary: Izaya knows of his other personality Gabriel.It becomes harder to hide Gabriel as Ikebukuro is thrown into chaos with an increasing number of suicides and other mysterious events.Izaya struggles for control while Shizuo,Celty,and Shinra become suspicious.
1. Sweet Dreams

Disclaimer: I do not own Durarara! just so everyone knows (duh how could you not)

ALSO the title comes from a quote from Emerson "Let us be silent that we may hear the whisper of God."  
>- <em><strong>Ralph Waldo Emerson<strong>_

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><p>Sunlight peered in behind the rich chocolate velvet that covered the floor to ceiling windows. A vine of molten gold crept its way up across naked svelte limbs, licking across a bare thigh and spilling onto the silk coverlet. Illuminated skin quivered as lithe muscle grew taut and pale arms stretched, fingers wiggling in celebration of the new day. Bleary ruby eyes blinked twice and slid over to glance at the digital display that had but a few hours earlier cast a ghostly sheen over the raven haired man's room while he had counted the hours till sunrise. A soft sigh escaped parted lips and muscles rippled as Izaya Orihara began his day.<p>

Dragging himself out of the sinful luxury of his bed, Izaya stumbled his way into the bathroom with the hopes of washing another sleepless night off under the warm spray of his multi-headed shower. Stepping into the stream of heated water, he released another sigh, this one of pleasure, and leant against the glass backsplash. Let it not be said that he was a morning person. Thoughts ambled tiredly through his head as he massaged shampoo into his hair. For the most part they were frivolous things: _Was the milk in the fridge any good? Did he have any significant clients scheduled to deal with today? Had Namie dropped dead from a stress induced heart attack?_

Just then the ruby eyed man shut off the water only to hear the distinctive sound of high heels _click clack_ across the mahogany floors downstairs accompanied by the closing of a door, almost as if his _assistant_ felt that he had just awoken and had come as the hound wakes to its rising master _like the bitch she is_. He briefly wondered if he could add telepath to the list of highly useful yet highly annoying attributes that the icy woman possessed. As much as he pretended to find her behavior interesting, he did so for the sole intent of aggravating her and in the privacy of his dripping shower he permitted himself to scowl into the fluffy warmth of a crimson towel. Izaya would not call himself a vain person, but he would admit that the red accents of his décor mirrored his eyes in a rather striking way.

He pouted at his reflection in the mirror above the sink and finished his morning routine, dressing in his usual charcoal v-neck and black slacks. Down the stairs he went, quickly placing the earbuds from the ipod he had snatched off of his dresser into his ear as a last minute whim struck him. Today seemed like it would be one of _those_ days, and music was often the only way to make it bearable, as an added bonus it drowned out Namie's sharp nagging. He flashed her a quick smirk as he continue his path to the kitchen and began a pot of tea. He leant against the counter and tapped his fingers against it in time to the beat that filtered through his ears while his thoughts focused on the information that Namie rattled off to him. He winced as the cutting, scientific cadence of her voice contaminated the precious lilting tones that soothed his fraying nerves. The infuriating woman had yet to figure out that he could read lips perfectly fine thank you very much.

The tea shrieked and Izaya lazily reached over to take it off of the stove and pour a cup of his favorite pomegranate green tea. He cocooned the cup with his hands, doing his best to leech the warmth from the sides while the steam brushed his lips, tantalizing him with its delicious aroma and promising taste. He opened the eyes that he didn't remember closing only to lock gazes with an annoyed assistant who seemed to be expectant of an answer. He smirked and waved a half acquiescing, half neutral hand. She sighed and shook her head, Izaya's smirk widened over his tea. He was sure that her opinion of him was as unpleasant as his was of her. He was also sure that he didn't give a damn. He sighed, this time in bliss and strutted over to his work station as only Izaya Orihara could. He sat in his swivel chair and spun round in it once, giving into yet another impulse. That seemed to happen more often on these kinds of days. Yes, on these kinds of days he seemed to have difficulty focusing on things online, the "important" things Namie prattled about to him, or really anything in this reality. On these days his mind wandered in a most unproductive manner, turning over various thoughts in a painfully slow manner. It might have been because of his natural inclination to focus on multiple things at once, or it might have something to do with the quiet whispers that lurked in the back of his mind. He sighed again, this time mentally.

_Oh my host, you should really stop worrying about these earthly duties, they're far below you. Human emotions should not interest you._

The exasperated growl rolled through the edges of his consciousness and swelled at the forefront of his mind. Izaya would like to say that this was surprising, but the strongest response he could muster was a lazy eye roll. He did his best to block any more of these wayward ..._thoughts_, but with his mind running on the vestiges of yesterday's energy it was proving to be a challenge which was enhanced two-fold by the distractions of work. Hours ticked away until Izaya felt the absurd urge to chuck his switchblade at the sleek yet still plain analog clock that hung innocently on the wall. He turned the volume up in an attempt to block out the remnants of those annoying distractions. He spent the next twenty minutes attempting to collect more information from the internet, but it all proved futile and five minutes after that he sent Namie home, waving away her questions about the unfinished work in order to get her out the door as swiftly as possible. Thankfully the woman was accustomed to his ever changing whims and left with little protest. As soon as the door _snicked_ shut, Izaya hastily threw down his ipod and cradled his head in his hands, his breathing was ragged and he brought a hand up to massage the bridge of his nose. His head throbbed for reasons known _only_ to him, and the ticking of the clock seemed to have intensified. Each passing second sent a resounding echo through his skull. Perhaps a fresh cup of steaming tea could soothe his mind. Attempting to push the insistent throbbing away, the raven haired man stood up and was ambushed by another wave of pain on which rode lurking whispers. He put a hand on his desk to steady himself.

_Fuck the tea. I need sleep._

Still cradling his head in one hand, Izaya began the trek back up the stairs, doing his best to weakly shed his clothes as he went before collapsing back into the sweet haven of his bed. Doing his best to forget about the pain in his head and its source, he let his mind drift along feeling rather disgusted with himself that the day had ended after only a few unproductive hours in the same manner as it had begun. He buried himself deeper into the precious silk in a rather unsuccessful attempt at drowning out the dangerous whispers that curled about his exhausted mind.

Aphotic depths swallowed the bright glimmering drops, hungry for the light of the city that winked in a parody of playfulness along the edges of the aqueous. Tear filled emeralds gazed down after it. Malicious crimson slid over sweaty, caramel flesh. A rising scent of fear and anguish mingled in the night air. The sounds of the city traffic faded into cacophonous breaths. An anticipatory wind swept over the rooftop mussing raven locks and bottle blond curls. Concrete grit growled under shuffling feet, the _scritch scratch_ of gravel screamed in harmony with the howling wind and turbulent breaths. Emerald turned to capture crimson and thin lips turned up into a mocking, encouraging grin. Impatient gusts pressed against shivering ankles urging dainty heels to resume their feminine saunter. Immaculately painted nails edged forward and enthusiastic darkness rose up farther, farther embracing caramel, jean, cotton, and emerald. Crimson looked down into the gloom, catching a faint glimmer of liquid flesh at the bottom. Pale fingers undulated in a lazy wave. _Goodbye lovely emerald_. A single black feather floated solemnly down and melded into the once again still depths.

Ruby eyes snapped open.

_I hope you had sweet dreams, my host._


	2. Cobalt

Thanks to those who reveiwed the last chapter! I really appreciate it. I'm sorry this chapter was long in coming, but I was busy with other things, and I had some difficulty with Yuki's scene...I shall try to be more prompt, but I'm not making any promises ^^;

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><p>Izaya glanced around his bedroom where strange shadows played in the blue glow of his alarm clock.<p>

3:37*

He groaned and ran a hand through his hair and back down across his face. How is it that he could sleep through yesterday afternoon and night and still feel as if he hadn't at all? Before he could stop it his lips had already begun to move as if they had a life all their own and a deep chuckle fell from his mouth, resonating throughout the room. He felt the familiar sensation of his throbbing headache roll through his skull bringing forward the reverberating voice of what he rather humorlessly referred to as his roommate.

_My don't we look lovely today?_

A roommate with a horrible sense of humor.

"I'm not in the mood Gabe."

_Oh? So now it suites you to talk to me._

Izaya rolled his eyes, but heaved a sigh of relief. As much as he hated to, acknowledging the roommate with whom he quite literally shared everything mitigated the horrible aching that resulted from their power struggles.

"How could I not, after all you're terribly annoying."

_Perhaps if you would let me out and acknowledge my existence I would not have to resort to such drastic measures. I enjoy the headaches as much as you do, though my tolerance for pain is superior to yours as it is to all humans, you should be thankful that I have chosen you among the other trillions to inhabit._

Izaya snorted and proceeded to haul his still tired body out of bed. There would be no more rest for him now that he had fed the beast. He would be the first to admit that Gabriel was a real douche at times and often caught himself contemplating how his own fucked up mind could conjure up such a creature. He proceeded with his morning ritual. Upon stepping out of the shower he caught a flicker of his reflection and took a moment to examine his body. A few light scars decorated his upper chest and another smaller one marked a ticklish spot on his left hip. Too bad the cut hadn't tickled.

_Stop that pompous preening. Your human body will never compare to my angelic glory._

Izaya snorted again as his contemplations were interrupted.

"So you admit that we're gorgeous?"

A soft growl.

_Do not twist my words, mortal._

Really, who was being pompous here? A small smirk tugged at the corners of the raven haired man's lips. As annoying as Gabriel could be, he was often equally as amusing. Izaya shook his head and quickly toweled off while making his way over to his closet which housed a somewhat impressive display of clothes. One half was devoted to his typical monochrome attire while the other half displayed a wide range of colors and styles. Despite his dark and holier than thou attitude, Gabe always managed to improve Izaya's mood. That is, once the two settled upon a sort of compromise of power. The few days before hand were torture, yet Izaya couldn't bring himself to blame his other half. That seemed to be even more insane. A soft giggle escaped smiling lips. Oh yeah, today was going to be an absolutely _fantastic_ day in only the fucked up way Izaya and Gabriel could enjoy it.

Pale hands rummaged through garments before settling upon a red button down decorated with a dragon motif embroidered in flashy silver and low-rise jeans complete with a belt. Izaya might have felt that it deviated too strongly from his usual outfit, but he was feeling the need to make himself noticeable today. Dressing and practically skipping down the stairs, Izaya promptly took his customary seat at his desk. His fingers grazed over the keyboard before retracting, four AM was probably too early for many people to be on the chatrooms. Even so, he booted up the computer and browsed some of his usual sites, searching for any interesting news. He swept his eyes across page after page of information before resting upon one particular article.

It featured the cheerful face of a young green eyed blond girl who had apparently jumped to her death from some obscure building. Her body had been discovered in the alley behind it by a shop owner who had been closing up.

_Twinkling emeralds, roiling shadows, caramel skin, and wisps of gold disappeared over the edge._

Izaya blinked, confused by the memories that had been stirred up by the picture. Did he know this person? Raven brows knitted together as he attempted to sift through cloudy memories. For a moment he thought he remembered a vague conversation, but a piercing bolt of pain shot through his skull causing shadows to enshroud the edges of his vision, effectively silencing the train of thought. Izaya snapped his eyes shut, hissing his pain and displeasure. Slowly the agony dissipated into a quietly threatening throb. Izaya leaned back in his chair, a finger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose. Soft whispers brushed through his mind, taming the throbbing into a distant almost ghost pain.

_Having difficulties are we?_

Crimson eyes snapped open, brows drawn down in an annoyed expression as a quiet growl of frustration simmered in the informant's chest.

"Now is not the time to deal with you Gabe."

_Touchy touchy, perhaps a nice nap will cure you of your bad humor._

"The only bad humor around here is yours." Izaya sniped back at his counterpart, simmering frustration brewing into anger.

Although now that it had been brought to his attention a nice nap on the couch wouldn't hurt anyone, least of all him. With a sigh of resignation, the informant shuffled his way over to the couch, pointedly ignoring the soft chuckles that drifted through his mind.

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><p>Shizuo surveyed his surroundings with bored eyes, a cigarette poised between two fingers, shoulders slumped against the wall outside a "client's" shop. The typical hustle and bustle of Ikebukuro continued around the blond as it did every day and every night. Blond brows furrowed as thoughts drifted off to the whispers of the incident that snuck its way through the crowd and tickled his ears; a suicide, the third within the last two weeks. Shizuo found it rather remarkable that the crowd seemed to be concerned, suicide was not so uncommon here, aside from which stranger things had been known to happen.<p>

Among which was the remarkably extended absence of a certain Shinjuku flea.

A low growl rumbled in the blond's chest as his brain conjured up images of raven locks and demonic crimson eyes which sparkled mockingly at him. His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of Tom as he exited the shop. The dark skinned man waved a friendly, yet still commanding, hand his way, beckoning Shizuo to follow. Without a word the blond complied, one hand wrapped elegantly around a cigarette and the other jammed into his pocket as he slouched after his companion. The two paid a visit to another "client" who handed the money over without any trouble, if only a tad hastily. Tom dismissed Shizuo after settling on a meeting place for the next day, and the two went their separate ways. The blond was rather surprised that today had been so peaceful, boring yes, but peaceful. He wandered around Ikebukuro, having plenty of time on his hands, before settling himself at a nice cozy bench in the park. Hazel eyes softened in contentment as they tracked the movement of an old couple laughing, hands intertwined. Lazy eyes shifted to catch a canine criminal act as a beloved pet dog surreptitiously stole a few licks from its master's ice cream. The orange flare of the sunset glinted off of Shizuo's silver frames as he bent to light another cigarette.

It was at that moment that the ex-bartender caught a flash of something that dampened his mood considerably, almost as if the generally bad-tempered gods of Ikebukuro spotted Shizuo's unusually peaceful mood and had decided to stomp all over it. His eyes had lit upon cherry colored cloth as it whisked its way through the late afternoon crowds. The blond wasn't sure why the color had offended him as it had, but a brief flash of darker crimson flared in his mind's eye, and with a growl he was off. Shizuo's tall frame had no difficulties in traversing through the crowd and in no time the blond again caught sight of the cherry shirt, and the coal colored locks of the person wearing it. His eyes narrowed at the sliver of pale skin that peeked out between cherry and coal.

_Snap_. The debt collector's cigarette was ground in half beneath a smart leather shoe.

"Izzaaa-_yaaa_"

It was a soft, rage filled growl that built into a roar as Shizuo gathered distance and momentum. A heated crimson glance swept backwards to watch the other's progress, before Izaya began the nerve wracking dance of evasion.

_Slap Slap Slap._

The blond's footsteps blundered through the crowd gracelessly as he pursued his nemesis through the alleys of Ikebukuro. His breaths became pants interspersed with growls as the chase intensified. He followed as closely as possible, but always the familiar head bobbed out of reach in front of him as Izaya dodged and weaved like an acrobat. Shizuo couldn't help but notice the remarkable lack of response from the damn flea. His progress was halted as he spotted one of Izaya's more impossible feats, hazel eyes opening wide in shock. The flea had somehow managed to climb the side of a five story building and now crouched atop the chain link fence that framed the roof. All this in the time it took for Shizuo to round the corner. Izaya turned to regard the blond from his perch. Raven locks rustled in the slight breeze that passed between them. Time froze and the sounds of the city faded.

Crimson locked with Hazel.

Gone was the familiar twist to those smirking thin lips. Gone was the teasing glint in the flea's eyes. Gone also was the bubbling mirthless laugh that grated on the debt collector's nerves. Silence remained. Immobile, impassive Silence. It bore down on Shizuo, settling upon him like a dense fog, charging the air with a sense of sluggish foreboding. All he could do was simply stare. Stare as cool marble gazed down upon him from on high, expressionless.

_"Human I have neither the time nor the patience for your silly little games."_

The Silence was pierced. The spell that seemed to glue Shizuo's feet in place broke as the words drifted down to him. Hazel eyes blinked. Crimson vanished. He was again aware of the blaring sounds of traffic and paused briefly to consider the baffling encounter before backtracking his way through the complicated corridors of the city. Never before had the flea referred to him as human, it was always monster this or monster that. Shizuo was not about to hold his breath for the faint hope that Izaya even considered him to be one of his "precious humans" or whatever the fucked up flea was always going on about, but he couldn't help but wonder about the choice words that had been spoken to him. Shizuo made his way back to his apartment and leaned back against the door while deftly shaking out another cigarette. Cold, cruel eyes stared back at him in his mind's eye.

Elegant fingers shook minutely as thoughts wandered over the encounter.

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><p>Yuki Watanabe stood in the doorway of his twin sons room, haunted haggard eyes taking in their slumbering forms. Bare feet trekked down the rest of the hallway to the bathroom. Shaking hands reached for the faucet to allow a cold sluice of water to flow hollowly into the drain below. Yuki splashed the water onto his face, droplets trickling down hollow cheekbones like tears. Shadow rimmed eyes stared back at him in the mirror, desperate brokenness leaking from the corners. Shadows clouded his mind.<p>

_Pitiful human._

Tired cobalt widened in surprise, shoulders stiffened.

"W-who's there?"

Whispered laughter bounced off the dingy bathroom walls. The cracked bathroom light flickered like a candle in the wind.

_No one._

"B-but I can hear you."

_Silly human, you can hear the water dripping from the faucet, your ignorant fools of neighbors and their stereo, the traffic of the city, but none of those things are people._

Confusion was reflected back at Yuki in the mirror.

"W-well whoever you are, what are you doing here?"

_I have come to pay my respects to you._

"Respects?"

_Mmm such a tragic visit we will be enjoying tonight._

"Tragic? I, I don't understand...anything, I don't understand you or is it me... you have to be a part of me don't you?" Yuki's mirthless laugh echoed back to him, his eyes shut tight in his hysterical throes. "How crazy do I have to be to be talking to myself?"

He cradled his head in his hands, fingers twining and pulling at dull bangs. Hysterical, animalistic growls of frustration and desperation, of fury and self-loathing burbled out. A spark had ignited in his eyes. A swirling spark of madness, growing brighter as the seconds slowed down and lips pulled back to reveal a radiant snarl that gleamed oddly in the dim bathroom light.

"Look at me, look at the mess I've become. I have nothing. Nothing to live for, Nothing to die for, Nothing to hope for."

Fingers dug insistently into his scalp, nails sinking deeply into flesh. Blood trickled down, weaving its own path down the side of Yuki's face, outlining an aquiline nose and high cheekbone, dripping down from a clenched jaw. Blood collected in the basin of the sink, flowing down the drain. Growls morphed into cackling, unhinged laughter, shoulders shook and he threw his head back. Insanity glossed cobalt eyes that had gazed unseeingly upwards at chipped plaster dropped, and remained fixed upon the looking glass. Just as abruptly as the fit of insanity overtook him it fled, leaving an anticipatory silence in its wake.

Crazed cobalt scowled at crazed cobalt. Clammy fingers curled into shaking fists. Teeth clenched. Once handsome features twisted most hideously into a mask of passionate temper.

"And just _who_ are you trying to judge?"

Angry, accusatory cobalt lighting flashed dangerously back at Yuki.

An aged lined hand lashed out and glass shattered into agitated shards. Furious cobalt raked over the reflective fragments that littered the floor. In another fit of madness, Yuki pounded on the glass bits, determined to break his enemy down into insubstantial pieces, attempting to obliterate the cobalt stare that pierced his soul. Like magic, cuts began to color sallow skin crimson. Cobalt espied it as it dripped innocently, yet incriminatingly on the dirty tile floor. All action ceased as crimson captivated cobalt leaving Yuki spellbound. All his previous ire fled from his gaze, wonder rapidly replacing it. Drowsy hands rose to model their newfound beauty before his enraptured gaze. Blood dotted his slack jawed expression. Knees buckled in awe.

Immediately, profound understanding bloomed in that listless stare.

Confident fingers dropped to grab one of the few longer shards that still remained despite his earlier fit. Gently, Yuki placed the glass across his wrist so that it caressed the skin in a soothing manner. Eyes wide with child-like innocence, he watched as more crimson emerged to trickle across plains of skin and empty into tile fields and grout lined valleys, staining everything in the stream's wake. Red rivers ran and ran until a single reservoir framed Yuki's prone form.

_Whoosh._ Like a candle the light guttered out.

Lifeless cobalt gazed blankly into the remnants of the mirror. Crimson stared back.

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><p>AN Ehh well...I hope you liked it ^^;

* for 3:37, These numbers were chosen for a reason, three is the number of completeness and 7 is the number of divinity. Also, I do hope you readers are picking up on some of the ironic lines I throw in there. I'm not sure if you have made connections between Izaya's naps and the suicides yet...but if not there ya go *whistles*

*cough* hence the line "a nice nap on the couch wouldn't hurt anyone"

*resumes innocent whistling*


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